


A Cook For You

by mushi6618



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Australian Slang, Comfort Food, Cooking, Cute, Embarrassment, F/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-27 05:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18190514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushi6618/pseuds/mushi6618
Summary: Mei wants to thank the Junkers for having her back in battle, so she cooks them up baozi. Amidst the conversation Mei accidentally proposes to Junkrat. Roadhog is amused, Junkrat is flustered, and somehow Zenyatta finds himself in the middle of it all.





	A Cook For You

**Author's Note:**

> The Australian slang for wife is “cook”.

…

It had been on the battlefield where Mei-Ling Zhou had finally come to appreciate the sooty thorn in her side & his hulk of a bodyguard. Jamison Fawkes, Junkrat as he so proudly called himself, used his interesting defense & volley to save her life more than once. The three of them did quite well on missions, as uneven as they were, two defenses & a tank.

It had gotten to the point that she’s wanted to return the favor, even though she’d saved their lives in return she always had the mentality that one should travel that extra mile, and she’d slightly misjudged her companions. Jamison only smelled rotten, to which a bath would solve that problem, and he was still a bit of a thief, but she found him not to be a bully. Instead, he was just silly, more like the class clown than the psychopathic pyro murderer she’s thought him to be. Well, pyro yes and perhaps he had murdered a few people… at least he wasn't a psychopath?

She watched them from out of the corner of her eyes.

Trying to pick up on the things they liked, or did in their spare time, and in general hoping to figure out a way to surprise them. Mei was sure Roadhog wouldn’t mind in the least bit but she was curious about what Junkrat’s reaction would be. The word “excited” popped into her mind but it didn’t seem to be what she pictured happening. He'd more than likely be bouncing off the walls like a cartoon character.

They tended to order a lot of take-out, despite the base being well equipped with the supplies & means to make their own food. It worked in her favor that they happened to favor Chinese food. To follow-through with her plan she first tested what she’d be up against.

“Gah! So gross!”

The pork baozi tasted nothing like what Mei had been fed and as a result, made it a personal vendetta to cook a proper cultural equivalent. A little known fact: Mei wasn’t exactly a great cook. In fact, she could only accomplish a handful of mildly complicated recipes on her own, but she could make pork buns. Plenty of New Years spent in the tiny hot kitchen in her mother’s house had seen to that.

Mei set out one fine crisp morning when the air was sweet and the knowledge that most of her colleges were off on their own missions to tackle the rather long shopping list she rolled up into her purse. The shopping was tedious yet somewhat relaxing, bringing back pleasant memories from her youth going shopping for mother, then all to soon Mei had bought herself a small cargo bays worth of food.

Now the real challenge began.

The prep work alone took longer than she had liked, even when Tracer had joined her in the kitchen with a promised plate full; then the actual cooking began. Mei was sure that the entire base must have smelled like any downtown Chinese market. A few teammates had wandered in, content with a small portion and polite conversation then left her to finish, and eventually informed by a full-mouthed McCree that the Junkers would be arriving late from their latest mission.

They would most likely be ravenous.

Mei giggled as she flipped the vegetables in the large wok she’d been working with, the several sets of steamers set around the kitchen creating a bathhouse atmosphere. Tired & sweaty, Mei was rather enjoying herself. She wouldn’t be doing this on such a large scale for a long time after, but at the moment she revealed in the comfort of cooking. The memories, and the anticipation of how her intended targets were going to receive their gift.

As promised Tracer came back to help Mei pile all of her creations onto the large long cafeteria tables, claiming a large pile of dumplings for her own and headed straight for her room to enjoy. Now all Mei had to do was wait for Junkrat & Roadhog’s arrival. Huffing out a breath she sat down at the head of the table and picked up a steamed bun. She had made many flavors and made sure to remember to put the pork filled ones to the side for Junkrat, not really surprised that Roadhog didn’t eat pig products.

A rather loud large “BANG” shook the base telling her the arrival of her intended companions.

Mei quickly stuffed the rest of the dumpling into her mouth, noting the texture & flavor then washed the entirety down with a glass of water. Wiping her hands and mouth with a napkin she began fiddling with the slightly greasy cloth. Nervous, she started wondering why she’d done this. Everyone helped each other on the base, no one deserved special treatment, least of all the Junkers for how much company property they either blew up or broke. Perhaps if she let her mind wander a little further she’d have realized that it had been her recent close proximity to the young Jamison Fawkes. While she’d been daydreaming, true to her speculations the two Junkers were ravenous and much to their ire the pilot of their ship simply couldn’t land the dropship at McDonald's.

Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes practically slammed his way into the Overwatch cafeteria, sort of, he’d mostly been pushed by a rather hungry hog. So in true Junkrat fashion, his landing was more cranial then he would have liked. Moaning in pain he slowly pushed himself off the floor thankful that the elder Junker hadn’t run him over as well. In fact, he was curious noticing how his bodyguard sudden stood unmoving behind him. Years of bombs, gun powder, and burnt nose hair wouldn’t have hampered the delicious smell that saturated the small cafeteria. Briefly, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed it getting off the dropship… then again maybe he had judging by how fast they'd made it to the kitchen.

“H-Hooley-Dooly…”

“…” Roadhog shuffled up beside him.

“I know, eh mate? Oi, Snowflake, what’s with the grub?”

Mei quickly jumped from her seat at the table and went over to greet them properly. “Mr. Fawkes, Mr. Roadhog.” She gave them both a low bow.

“O-Oi, it ain’t yer birthday, roight?”

“…”

“Is it mine?”

“…”

“Hun… um, ah, Sno-er-Mei?” A puzzled look wasn’t new on his face but usually, he wasn’t this out of it. “What happened? We win something’?”

Before when Jamie would say something along these lines would have put her in a foul mood, but now the dirt-ball bomber sounded sincere in his confusion, and in turn, ended up looking rather cute with a soot-covered finger to his lips trying to ponder why she was being so nice to him. His fingers left a soot mustache around his upper lip. Blushing from her thoughts & nerves Mei motioned them both to the kitchen sinks.

“Please wash your hands and er, Jamie your face? T-Then you can eat.”

“Whot?”

“Hmmm…” Roadhog raised a shoulder in acknowledgment.

The Elder Junker wasted no time lumbering over to the sinks, large grubby fingers turning on the taps in order to wash the fowl aftermath of their latest mission down the drain. Jamie seemed to be having a rather slow day, the smaller Junker only blinking at the sound of running water, looking ever more comical with his "dirtstache".

“Uh…” Slowly his eyes focused her. “Mind explainin’, luv.”

“O-Oh, well, I j-just wanted to thank you – the BOTH of you for helping me on my mission in Antarctica, I know the climate isn’t something either of you were used to.” Mei stammered out.

“Heh, ya, puttin’ it lightly. Damn near froze me donger off…” Junkrat peeled off into a fit of trademark hyena-like giggles.

“Y-Yes, which is why I hope the dumplings I made can make up for it.”

“Ah, darl, ya didn’t have ta do anythin’ like that for me an’ Hog.” He chided. “We’s get paid all the same be it tim-buck-too or New Jersey.”

“Ah, still I just wanted to do something to show my thanks. So thanks? Thank you? Um, sorry, I’m sorry, please just wash up and I can show you what’s… uh, what.” Mei felt the heat rise to her face as she ushered Junkrat over towards the sink where Roadhog was drying his clean hands. ‘ _Why is my face hot? Oh gosh, am I blushing? I am!_ ’ She thought, inwardly screaming, feeling a little embarrassed by her odd behavior.

“P-Please have a seat.”

Mei waited standing next to the table overflowing with various steamy buns as Roadhog sat down, the steel bench seat bending in middle trying to cope with his weight. Junkrat quickly scrubbed up, managing to remember his face, and dried himself off mid-hop as he ducked towards the table. He landed with is legs spread apart on the bench and then immediately threw a hand towards his shorts, his face sporting an injured expression. One groan later from both the men and Mei tried to start her explanation.

Tried, really.

She had only gotten into discussing two flavors before they both lost patience and attacked the first steamer. Like many an unfortunate bystander, pachinko machine, or Talon agent the bamboo basket didn’t survive the encounter. Mei gave up, only interrupting to state which steamers held the pork buns.

As the two started into their second round of buns Mei’s eyes tried to politely avoid seeing what Roadhog’s lower jaw looked like. She realized that they were obviously enjoying the food & thus her presence was no longer needed. With a happy sigh, she set her shoulders with a positive smile on her face and turned to leave for her room. She still had so much work to do after being asleep for nine years - with change to spare!

“Oi, Meieh? Whegure ya thagink year gohan’? Aint’cha gouana bog in?” Jamison said with a mouthful of food, chewing loudly.

“Oh, I was just going to leave you two to your meal, I have a lot of work to do, and I don’t mean to sound rude but I spent most of today in the kitchen.”

“Ah, wheehlp, me’s donned mind yak doyen toss fir me n’og.” He swallowed some of the food. “Strewth, have ya dilly a tucker like this any arvo over that piss they serve at the boozer.” Jamison then followed his slang with a long swig of ice water.

Mei had encountered a variety of wordage in her time but she been more than a bit put out by the Australian’s excessive use. Yet, to her credit, she’d heard him more than once speaking around the base in his off-color language and managed to piece together a bit of what he’d meant. A compliment most likely, one that would have had her thinking him a bully no more than a year ago. Certainly, she would’ve misunderstood him back then, along with his unusual take at comedy & comradery.

“Ha-ha, yes, well for you Jamison I’d gladly be your cook.” She said it closing her eyes in a happy response. Without looking back Mei turned and made her way back to her room; into the waiting arms of her research.

A plate dropped to the floor shattering the silence as the two Junkers sat unmovingly. The recent chatter of their feasting stopped by their most gracious host. Her leaving, and with the final slam of the cafeteria door, a reminder that time moved forward. Roadhog who’d previously been shoving a rather decadent cabbage & carrot bun into his mouth turned his head to look at his boss.

Jamison Fawkes swallowed the last remains of pork bun with a rather loud cartoonish gulp, his tongue feeling dry even though he’s just taken a drink. It wasn’t long before Roadhog’s large elbow poked him roughly in his bony ribcage. A slow laugh was rumbling up through the gas mask as Jamison’s face began to turn from pale to pink, to red, the rosy color almost glowing under the soot & freckles.

“Aguh, shut yer trap ya bloody dipstick.”

“Hehehe… why? Afraid Mrs. Fawkes’ll hear you?”

A small fire caught on the tips of Junkrat’s previously put out hair as he jumped up from his seat, spilling a pile of chicken dumplings onto his plate. He opened his mouth but closed it almost as fast and stood there, one leg on either side of the bench, towering over his partner while imitating a fish. Roadhog’s laughter only got louder as he realized he’d made the infamous blabber mouth speechless. Such an act called for celebration; opening one of the many pockets he produced a small bottle of liquor. Lifting his mask he took a hearty swig then put the flask back in its place, coughing, as he still hadn’t completely stopped the grumble of giggles at his boss’s expense.

“Fuckin’ cunt.” Both meanings implied. “She don’t understand what she jus said is all. Didn’t mean it like that, didn’t mean nothin’, so stop yer cacklin’.” He huffed out a sigh, coughing once in his hand to clear his throat that still felt parched, and sat down with his hair still aflame. “Ya sound like ya done sat on a duck quakin’ like that.”

“Weak.” Replied Roadie. “Get better material, wanker.”

“Ha, as if you could appreciate my fine use of the Aussie language, ya cockie dick.”

“Hehehe… your cook might.”

“Ey, I said shut yer gabber on that tizzy. She ain’t me w-wi-wife.” The fire on Jamison’s head died down. “Wouldn’t want’ta be...”

“Right, need balls to ask her.”

“’Scuse me? I gots plenty, it’s jus- the sheila don’t like me like that.”

“How you know?”

“I-…” Jamison’s brain blinked out for a second at the thought that Mei could like him enough to willingly be his wife. “Ugh… I, well, she, I mean-“ He shuddered. “She h-hates me, said so herself!”

“Really? Why’d she blush? Why all this?” Roadhog’s large hand swept across the table at the massive amount of food and the noticeable amount of work that brought it to be.

“She’s jus bein’ nice, the girl’s a peach is all.”

“Hmm…”

“Oi, yer tryin’ ta yank me peg is what yer doin’! Well, I say bugger off, and I ain’t gonna look at it no more than a free meal.” Junkrat sat back down in a huff, shook out his long arms, and began eating the dumplings that had fallen onto his plate.

“Need to thank her.”

“Blooody Oath! Coughorse werea goonna tank ‘er!” He responded with a mouth full and swallowed. “We ain’t heathens! Were Junkers!”

“Thank her for me.”

“What do ya mean? Yer not doin’ it? Rude’eh, an your always grizzlin' me! Grub was fer both of us!”

“Better you: make a move.”

“Damn’it Roadie!”

Junkrat slammed his fist onto the table, squishing the bun in his robotic hand and disrupting the steamer near him. Roadhog stopped laughing. Realizing that his ear bashing, lying, idiot of a boss got serious. Mako couldn't believe the subject would register, let alone cause such a reaction.

To little, too late.

Sometimes he forgot things as well, like the fact that Jamison was only in his twenties. More than likely a virgin due to a list of issues and the simple ideology that perhaps it was a sore topic in general for him to be making fun of considering their backgrounds.

“Sorry.” Roadhog said in a gruff voice. “You’ll be fine, just try.”

Jamison didn’t say much for the remainder of their dinner, which alone was enough to worry his partner, but they did squabble over that last of the vegetable baozi - so things felt relatively fine. Roadhog figured when Jamie got upset about something, give it a day, and it would be lost to the maze that was the madman’s mind. Unfortunately, things didn’t disappear into the holes left by radiation.

Then Jamison actually began avoiding Mei the next day and when they had to guard the payload Junkrat seemed to give more cover to the climate scientist. Unnoticeable to most, but not Roadie. Mei’s cook comment apparently was still rattling around in the kids brain, harmless, but becoming extremely annoying since now the younger Junker took to using his larger companion as high ground & a safe place to retreat from the small Chinese woman.

“Ridiculous .” Roadhog threw Jamie off of his shoulder; uncaring if the boy blew sky high.

“Oi watch it!” Jamison jumped up ever the ball of overactive energy.

“Act your age.”

“Whatever ya great big dill.” Junkrat scoffed at him.

“Lob in and chew the fat.”

“Fair go, mate. Didn't think I tried? I ain't a bloody drongo.”

“Says you.” Roadie leaned over him. “Shut up and go.”

“Fine, yeah, I’ll get on me game! Got tickets fer meself. Snowflake’s gonna reel from me’s king hit, you’ll see.”

Roadhog watched a Jamison walked away talking gibberish to himself as he went and wished the boy luck. He figured the idiot would need all of it he could get. Rubbing his right shoulder he decides he too could have a yarn, perhaps with a lovely pink-haired Russian badass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if I butchered the usage of Australian slang in this. Forgive me.


End file.
